Who Am I?
by Gilded Muse
Summary: Joanne is worried about being late to their halloween party when Maureen helps to distract her with thoughts of Mark and Roger.


**Author: **Gildedmuse (Stephanie)**  
Pairing: **Joanne/Maureen, Abstract!Mark/Roger**  
Rating/Warning: **PG-13 for sexual themes, warning fro abstract Mark/Roger sex, I guess, and not so abstract and yet fully odd lesbian sex.**  
**

**Who Am I?**

"I can't believe this." Joanne looks up from the bed, pulling the corners of the comforter straight. She likes keeping the bed neat even though she knows Maureen is right when she argues that they'll just mess it up again. Still, there is nothing wrong with wanting the bedroom to look nice at least for a few hours while they're out of the house. Joanne likes the order of it when everything is straightened and under control. She is pretty sure that if she left it to Maureen, the sheets would be everywhere and Joanne wouldn't be able to find a single thing in the room. "A last minute costume party. How can people expect you to be ready for a last minute costume party?"

"It isn't last minute," Joanne says as she puts the last pillow into place. There, this should last until Maureen comes out of the closet, where she is digging around for something to wear. "Steve thought we'd still be on the Reynold's case so he didn't mention it until today."

"What a jerk," Maureen says, and Joanne just rolls her eyes. "How'm I supposed to come up with a costume in half an hour?"

With a long, drawn out sigh she uses when she knows Maureen is purposively overreacting, Joanne grabs her shirt and starts to button it back on without bothering to start an argument. She hates being late for anything, especially when her colleagues will be there. "You would have had longer if you hadn't started with that massage."

"I couldn't help it." From inside the closet Joanne can hear Maureen going through their clothes, probably throwing them around in her usual fickle minded fashion. She can only imagine the mess that will be left when Maureen comes out. "You look so tense, baby. I had to help you loosen up a little."

Joanne coughs so that Maureen knows she's looking at her, hands crossed over her chests as her eyebrows go up. Even with the serious pose, she can't help but smile. "With a vibrator."

"It helped didn't it?" Maureen asks, and Joanne can hear that adorable, cocky lift in her voice. It's that playfulness Maureen always seems to have an unlimited supply of that can either drive Joanne insane or get her smiling even after having lost a case to an abusive asshole. Right now it's the latter, and even if she's beginning to stress about being there on time, Joanne laughs at her girlfriend's mischievous streak.

"Well, hurry. Mark, Collins and Roger are going to meet us here and I don't want to have them sitting around for half an hour waiting. What about a cat suit?" Joanne asks, trying to change the subject before Maureen can get any ideas and they end up being late. "You still have that lying around, don't you?"

The second she's suggested it, Joanne can hear the whining start. "I can't wear that again!" Maureen has all that dramatic flare in her coming out and Joanne would swear she can hear her girlfriend throwing her hands into the air. Not that she would expect anything less from Maureen. Half of the reason she feel in love with her is because of all that energy, and half of the reason they fight is the way Maureen is always using it. It's amazing, how many parts of her Joanne can love and hate at the same time. "I wore that last year at New Years."

"So?" Even after two years of being with Maureen, there are still some things that Joanne doesn't understand about her. "You've worn it other times. Why not now?"

Maureen's head pops out as she leans around the door, blonde curls bouncing around her face. "That was different," she says with a pout that quickly turns up into a wicked looking smile that Joanne has come to associate with both dragging Maureen into bed and dragging her out of the club before she does something stupid. Yet another thing Joanne can't even pin down if she loathes or likes about her. "Those other times were just to get you into bed."

Joanne rolls her eyes, lips twitching up in a smile she tries to keep back. Maureen catches it, grinning at her before disappearing back into the closet. "We can stop on the way there," Joanne promises as she pulls on her suit with horns and a tail. She's the corporate devil, which makes sense to her and means all she needed was a cheap kit from the supermarket on her way home. "Pick you up something to wear. It will be fine, honey."

"Oh!" Joanne jumps back as she hears the shriek, looking at the closest with wide eyes as she waits for the crash. It doesn't come, but the door does fly open and Maureen hops out. "Oh, who am I?"

Joanne sits on the edge of the bed, head cocked to the side as she looks over Maureen. She's dressed in some old, lose plaid pajama pants that Joanne never threw out but probably should have. She has on her leather jacket as well, pulling it tight around her waist. "I'll give you a clue," Maureen offers, her eyes almost glowing with this bubbling up excitement even as she puts on the most over dramatic pout Joanne has ever seen on her, and that is saying a lot. "Oh!" She says in the roughest, lowest voice she can manage. "I'm soooo sexy yet soooo angsty! I better sit in my corner and brood with my guitar." Maureen throws in some fake sniffles, brushing 'tears' away from her cheeks. "She's the only one who understands me!"

Joanne knows it's wrong, but she can't stop laughing. She leans back on the bed, still giggling as a bright and bouncy Maureen falls into her lap, looking rather pleased at herself. "That's horrible!"

"I know," Maureen says, shrugging as she moves closer to Joanne, arms wrapped around her shoulders. If she was actually wearing pants as tight as Roger's (and Joanne has never understood how he can stand them. They look like they cut off all blood flow... everywhere) they probably would have ripped in half with the way Maureen is straddling Joanne's thighs. Personally, Joanne wouldn't mind the ripping, but she is glad that it isn't actually Roger on her lap. "But it's true. Who am I?"

"Roger, the brooding artist," Joanne teases, kissing the tip of Maureen's nose. She's adorable when she wrinkles up her nose, grinning and giggling along with Joanne. She wouldn't ever let anyone know it, because Maureen likes to appear perfect and confident and like she could care less, but she hates the wrinkles she gets from laughing. Which is too bad, because that is one thing about her that Joanne loves without question. "And... wait, you said he was sexy?"

"What," Maureen purrs as she leans back, pulling the jacket open with her hands at her hips, showing off her shirtless chest. "You don't think so?"

Laughing again, Joanne follows Maureen back so that she can kiss her. Nice and soft because she still remembers about the party and she hates being late, but that doesn't mean she can't waste a few minutes on kissing her girlfriend. When Maureen pulls back, she is still grinning ear to ear. That actually fun smile instead of the one she always shows people when she's flirting for some attention. "Oh, Joanne," she says in that gruff voice that is a bad imitation of Roger. "We can't. What about Maureen?"

"Mmm." Joanne makes a face, shaking her head. "I don't want to have to imagine myself kissing Roger."

"What?" Maureen asks and she keeps using that harsh voice. She leans back, grabbing herself by the crotch. "Is it because of my huge man meat?"

Joanne laughs loud enough that the neighbors might be able to hear them through the walls, almost toppling off the bed with Maureen still on her lap. "Oh, God," she wheezes as she fights to stop laughing and take a breath. "Never say that again."

Giggling and with that mischievous look back in her smile, Maureen slips off of Joanne's lap. "Stay," she tells Joanne with a wag of her finger before disappearing back into the closet.

Joanne nods, holding her stomach as she stops laughing so that she can breathe again and get her stomach to stop aching from lack of air. It's always nice when they're this happy together. They didn't get this a lot in the last year with all the troubles and fights, and it's nice to have days like this where all they do is laugh and smile and wind up in bed more than they should. "What are you doing?"

"Just wait!" Maureen calls back and Joanne sits still, listening to the closest being torn apart yet again. Maureen bounces back out, still glowing as she plops back down on Joanne's lap. "Oh, Mark."

In one swoop she wraps a scarf around Joanne's neck, pulling her close. Joanne looks down to the worn out, black scarf that Maureen is pulling on before staring back up at her. Maureen just bats her lashes, leaning closer. "Kiss me!" Maureen repeats, starting to pout as Joanne just waits. "I said kiss me, you hunk of Jewish love, you."

Joanne falls back on the bed, laughing again as Maureen leans down with her, thin frame cuddled up against Joanne as she presses their bodies together. It isn't exactly innocent, but Joanne is in too good of a mood to really stop her now. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"You love it," Maureen says with a suggestive wink, hands loosing on the scarf and going to Joanne's stomach, under the shirt. "Guess who you are."

"Well," Joanne says, not bothering to knock Maureen's hands away as they slide up her skin, even when there is a part of her that knows she should. She was never late for anything until Maureen. "Seeing as I only know two - Oh God what you say? - hunks of Jewish love and I don't think I'm Steve."

"The scarf," Maureen says, playing kissing Joanne in a flash, although the hands roaming up her stomach aren't nearly as light and teasing. "It's the give away, isn't it?"

Trying hard not to laugh to soon, Joanne settles back on the bed. "I love this scarf," she says in a false low voice that just makes her laugh before she gives up on it. "This scarf and my camera's are the only things that understand me."

"I understand you, Mark!" Maureen says in her low Roger voice. "I know I've been a bad friend lately, but that's just because I'm so damn sexy when I brood."

"I know," Joanne says, nodding and the more ridiculous this game gets, the more the two girls start to giggle in the middle of their words. Not that it stops them from playing, or stops Maureen's hands from crawling further up Joanne's shirt and she knows where this is leading, but responsibilities sometimes get pushed aside for Maureen. "It looks good on film."

"Oh, Mark," Maureen growls. "I'm tired of doing nothing but singing about how angsty I am. I need your sex to make it better."

"But Roger, we can't. How will I be able to film all day if we're having sex? Besides, I've never been with a man."

Maureen snorts and pulls back just a bit, probably just so Joanne can see her dramatic eye roll. "Yeah, Mark. Mister first got to the city rattling on about damn-all-conventions has never messed around with a guy."

"Fine," Joanne says, kissing Maureen quickly. "But Roger, I've never slept with a guy with such a huge cock."

"I call it my love sword, Mark." Joanne actually chokes for a second, tears welling in her eyes and if she dies right now from lack of air, it would probably be okay. "Oh, Mark," Maureen says, beaming down at Joanne as her hands cup her breasts and that gets Joanne to stop laughing pretty quickly. "Fuck me."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Fuck." Joanne jerks up, clutching the sheet in her fist as she looks out the bedroom door and into the living room. She pauses, almost stops breathing all together, and waits. "Fuck," she repeats as the knocking starts up again.

Next to her Maureen murmurs something, nuzzling against her side. Her hand is slung around Joanne, fingers dancing over her stomach as she lies there, apparently caring less about the door. "Calm down, honey, its probably just Roger, Collins, and Mark." She giggles a bit ash she sits up, pulling the scarf of off her wrist where Joanne had used it to tie her down. "For the party."

Running a hand through her hair, Joanne looks around until she can find a clock. "Fuck," she growls, climbing out of bed and grabbing her clothes, getting dressed as quickly as she can. Maureen just smiles up at her from the sheets and stretches out.

"What's the rush, pookie. People probably won't even be there yet," she says as she sits up, letting the sheets fall away as she crawls down to where Joanne is trying to button her shirt up as quickly as possible. "You don't have to be early for everything."

Giving Maureen a quick kiss, Joanne pulls on her horns and finishes the outfit in record time. Especially with a naked girlfriend right there to distract her. "Get dressed," she tells her, hurrying out to the living room as the knocking continues. "I'm coming!" She yells at the door, ignoring Maureen's snort and smart remark as she tries to fix her hair. "Coming," she says again as she grabs for the door, swinging it open before they can knock again.

"Hey." Joanne brushes some hair behind her ear, frowning as she looks around Mark. "Where's Collins and Roger?"

Mark wraps his arms around himself, looking away from Joanne. "Well, Roger doesn't really want to come," he mutters, and she can tell that they must have argued about it with the way Mark is glaring at the floor. "And Collins is still... Well..."

"Right," Joanne mutters, nodding in understanding. Collins is still with Angel, at the cemetery. She should have known he wouldn't come back from that for a while. She just thought, maybe, if he went to this party or if they could get Roger out of the house and not make them forget about Angel and Mimi, but just cheer them up for a few hours... Well, it's moments like these that you need the laughing to break up. You need someone willing to dress up as your friends and fake bad porn with or else these sorts of things will break you. Joanne glances towards the door, and it hits her once again how lucky she is to have Maureen.

As she's staring the door opens and out comes Maureen in her skintight cat suit. "Marky," she says, beaming at Mark as she wraps herself around him in a hug. Joanne knows by now not to mind when Maureen jumps on him. It's just how she is going to be, and if Joanne gets upset they'll just end up fighting with one another, again. "You came." She pulls back, still smiling as she looks over Mark. "And you... Dressed up."

It's the first time Joanne notices that Mark is in costume. Sort of. He's in plaid pants, a worn out shirt with the word WELL HUNGARIANS across it and a black, leather jacket that looks like, or really is Roger's. He smiles weakly, holding out his arms so they can see. "Who am I?"

"Roger," Maureen says, and Joanne can see the huge smile trying to pull at her mouth. She isn't sure how Maureen is keeping it back. "He let you steal his pants and his leather jacket? You wearing his underwear, too?"

"Roger doesn't wear underwear," Mark says, looking between both of the girls with a confused look as they have to bite their lips to keep from saying anything or start giggling again. "Err... I just thought the brooding artist outfit worked."

"It looks great," Joanne promises, hand on Mark's shoulder as she pushes him out the door. Over Mark's head, her and Maureen share a look and a smile. There are some things Joanne just can't imagine dealing with, unless she had moment's like these. "Now let's go before we're even more late than we already managed to be."


End file.
